


visions of our futures

by plinys



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February Trope Bingo, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Second Person, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5971438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There has always been a Kate Bishop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	visions of our futures

**Author's Note:**

> For my femtrope bingo card, the square is "reincarnation"

There has always been a Kate Bishop.

A woman with dark hair, an affinitive for purple, incredible aim, and a smile that feels as though it is welcoming you home. Her existence is a constant. A fixed point, which exists in every lifetime, in ever universe.

Whereas you –

 

She tells you that she remembers the first time you met, she was known as _Lady Katherine_ back then. A woman in a castle, locked away until suitors could come for her.

You called her _‘princess_ ’ then just to watch the way her nose wrinkled up. Told her stories about places that didn’t yet exist, of happily ever afters the two of you would never get to have. Lady Katherine never asked you, but she kissed you like her life depended on it, and at the time that had felt like more than enough.

When you had said, _“Run away with me,”_ Lady Katherine ran.

She picked up a bow for the first time on the road, her fingers curling over the wood with an easy grace, as she makes her own bid for her freedom. It was with that bow in her hand that Lady Katherine died, never even making it to the next kingdom over. Though she forgets that bit, the end to muddled by the lifetimes between then and now.

You don’t have in in you to tell her that _Lady Katherine_ wasn’t the first, so you smile as she tells you a story you know far too well, kiss her lips in quiet reassurances. There’s so many lifetimes you’d rather forget, maybe this is better in the end –

 

She tastes like coffee, bitter and sharp. Her elbows dig into your rib cage as she pulls you onto the couch with her. Colliding together as if this was inevitable as if this was exactly the place where the two of you belonged, where you had always meant to belong.

There’s laughter between the kisses, hands nervously pushing your jacket off your shoulders, as you move to make quick work of her own uniform.

“ _Fucking spandex_ ,” you curse under your breath, and she laughs again, a laugh that is so familiar that it takes you back to a thousand times before.

“We should’ve been doing this ages ago,” she says, before stealing your lips for another kiss.

Swallowing the words you might have said, the insistence that you had.

You strip her layers off of her, lowers your lips to her shoulder and then lower and lower. If your mouth is occupied then there will be no chance of slipping up, no chance of saying things that would only still her beneath your hand, horror instead of pleasure.

You know that look far too well –

 

One time you tell her the truth.

She’s getting married to some man you’ve never seen before, insisting that this is better for her _family_ and for _society,_ insisting that you could never understand.

You hate that she’s right.

So you tell her everything.

 You tell her about the first time you kissed when the world was first being born. You tell her about the past, and the present, and even the future. Though her nose wrinkles predictably at the notion of future. You tell her about everything you could be, using words like destiny and love in ways you’ve never been brave enough to do before.

You know her, as if she was the other half of your soul. Some nights you even consider that she might be.

But this woman, this _Katie,_ sees you as a stranger.

Knowing that doesn’t make it hurt any less when she slams the door in your face.

There’s a war going on.

Inside of you and in the world around, you take the first place out of the country that bears your name, because even that feels too close to her.

She will always own America, both in land and soul.

You’d die for her a thousand times, if only you could –

 

The next time she finds you, cheeks flushed pink, high off more than just the drugs.

She’ll die that night. You never bothered to find out how, because it had been so much easier to just walk away.

You leave the universe, because it’s easier than staying behind and waiting to see her again.

This never gets easier, you should’ve known that by now –

 

She’s Kate Bishop this time, and some part of you knows as soon as you see her that this is the one universe where you get to be happy.  You call her _princess_ with a sense of familiarity, push her dark hair back from her face, and offer to be there if she needs anything.

She’s a superhero this time, you both are. It feels as if this was what you were always meant to be, all that running through space and time and _this_ is what you had been made for.

The beginning doesn’t matter anymore.

All the failed chances before, are worth it when she smiles and asks who you are, as if she already knows the answer.

_“Princess, I’m your ticket to the multiverse_ ” –

 

 

The world nearly ends and she comes to you in the aftermath, words like prayers upon her lips, “I remember. I remember.”

 

 


End file.
